


Of Dragons and Jewelry

by KaelsMiscellany



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dragons, F/M, Middle ages-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 14:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaelsMiscellany/pseuds/KaelsMiscellany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“O Great Beast,” the king began. “We beseech you to lay waste no more to our fair land.”</p>
<p>The dragon thought this was all horribly pretentious, but decided to forgive the king. “And what will you give me in return mortal?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Dragons and Jewelry

**Author's Note:**

> Pydia Week day 2! This one was mostly inspired by one of Saucery's rambling Teen Wolf posts, but also a little by _Princess Smartypants_.

Once upon a time there was a kingdom besieged by a great dragon.

And while the dragon enjoyed the chaos it wrought it soon grew bored. So when the king came to parley, the dragon agreed to bargain.

“O Great Beast,” the king began. “We beseech you to lay waste no more to our fair land.”

The dragon thought this was all horribly pretentious, but decided to forgive the king. “And what will you give me in return mortal?”

“We have much gold and jewels we will give to add to your hoard.”

The dragon held back his laughter, but did let loose a plume of smoke. “What need have I for more gold and jewels, when I have heaps of them already?” The dragon smiled, which, even though it was a mostly friendly smile, was still quite terrifying. “No your gold and jewels will not do. But I do find myself in need of a wife.”

“A wife?” The king gulped.

“Are you deaf little king?” Oh so nonchalantly the dragon crushed a boulder in its talons. “A wife.”

The king looked horribly nervous. “I fear Great Beast that no woman will have you.”

More smoke escaped the dragon's maw. “You daughter shall do quite nicely.”

The king looked like a fish for a few minutes, before finally getting a hold on himself. “But she's just a child! Barely a year old!”

This time the dragon did laugh. “I do not want her _now_. What use is she to me as a suckling babe? No, I shall come for her in sixteen years and we shall be wed in your mortal fashion.”

Once again the king impersonated a fish. The dragon continued on. “You will give her everything she asks for, but punish her if she grows too foolish. She can have the company of men is she so wishes, but she may not kiss a one of them. I shall know if any of my conditions have been broken or not met.”

And with that the dragon flew off.

-

The next morning a strange pendent was found around the neck of Lydia, the princess. And no matter what anyone tried they could not remove it.

-

Years passed and Lydia grew into a woman of great beauty, and equally great intelligence. And did not find it strange that she did not fawn for the kisses of her father's knights like her ladies-in-waiting did, or that her father provided her the best teacher he could for whatever had currently caught her fancy.

But as her seventeenth birthday approached the king found he was desperate to keep his daughter safe, for who knew what the dragon would do to her. And so one day he gathered all of his knights and proclaimed that if any one of them could kill the dragon than they would win the hand of the princess. For then, at least, her husband and the future king would be human.

Almost all the knights left in search of the dragon, but few returned. And those that did return, came back changed and never looked Lydia in the eye.

All too quickly Lydia's seventeenth birthday arrived.

The morning of, the king sat Lydia down and explained to her what was to happen.

Lydia gave a small secret smiled. “He will try father,” her hands raised to cover the pendent she'd had all her life. “But he may find I am too smart for him.”

Her father was unconvinced, but did not argue.

A great celebration was had by the kingdom, but it was tinged by fear of the dragon. For none knew when it would arrive. Or what would happen when it did.

By dinner the king had somehow managed to convince himself that nothing would happen, that the dragon had forgotten, or lost interest, or something of the sort.

Lydia herself held no such illusions, but did not let that stop her from enjoying the feast. She gave smiles like indulgent gifts, egging on what few knights still vied for her attention. 'Oooh'ing and 'ahh'ing over every little gift given to her, even though most hardly impressed her.

The feast was nearing its end when the doors flew open and the dragon stalked in. Quickly the room filled with the sounds of women and children screaming and knights rushing for their weapons. The dragon apparently would have none of it, he roared. The room fell still. “I am here for my wedding, not to slaughter you all!”

He was smaller than she'd imagined, though she was quite sure he was still very big for a dragon. Lydia watched as he approached the dais her father and she were seated on. The rest of the court quickly scurried out of his way, though a few knights rushed him, only to be batted aside like toys. Soon the only sound in the room was the click of his talons.

The dragon stopped in front of them and bowed his head. “Your Majesty.” A bright blue eye cast a lingering glance at her. “Princess.”

Lydia, ignoring her father's stuttering, stood and curtsied. “Dragon.” She would admit that his entrance had been quite impressive. But it would take more than a good sense of the dramatic to get her to go with him. Regardless of what he thought, he'd need to prove himself to her. She gave him an indulgent smile and played with the chain of her necklace.

At least the dragon proved he had manners by bowing, or at least doing a good approximation of one. “Shall we be wed little one?”

She sat back down and nonchalantly rearranged her skirts. “But sir dragon, how are we to be wed if I know not your name?”

He chuckled, making a few of the nearby courtiers jump. “In your tongue my name is Peter, dear Lydia.” A not-so-unpleasant tingle raced down her spine as he spoke he name. “I ask again, shall we be wed?”

With a graceful movement she opened her fan, hiding her cheeky smile behind it; time to be a little. . .impertinent. “But how shall we be man and wife Peter, when you are a fairly large dragon, and I am a quite. . .small human?”

Next to her she could hear her father sputtering again, while in front of her the rest of the court looked quite embarrassed.

The drag- Peter threw his head back and gave a full throated laugh at that. When he calmed down he smiled at her, serpentine tongue flickering between teeth that could most likely tear her in half. “That, dear Lydia, is easily remedied.”

She, and the whole court, watched as his dragon body began to twist and contort. Only a minute later the dragon was gone and a very naked man stood in his place. Her fan rose up again to hide her smile. He looked down, then gave her another toothy smile, showing off his still sharp teeth and still forked tongue. “Oops.”

In a blink he wore a simple suit of armor. His eyes were still a bright blue, though slightly softened by a wild fringe of brown hair. “Any other concerns little one?”

This time she let him see her smile as she stood and descended the steps between them. He held out an arm and she deigned to take it. “I ask for the third time: Lydia, shall we be wed?” As one the court seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of her answer. Her smile deepened as she turned a little to better face Peter; well they wouldn't have to wait long.

Between one moment and the next her free arm flew up, the golden chain in her hand suddenly becoming a lasso.

As the necklace she'd worn her entire life settled itself around his neck the whole _world_ felt frozen. “I think you will find, _dear_ Peter that it is not I who shall be marrying you, but you who shall be marrying me.”

His puzzled frown was quite cute. He seemed to attempt something, and when it didn't work his frown deepened. An angry rumble began in his chest, in response she gave a comforting pat to his arm. “There, there. I'm told the benefits outweigh the losses.” She turned her attention back to her father. “Now father, if you would be a dear and summon the priest, we shall met you in the chapel.”

She headed back down the length of the great hall, Peter having no choice but to follow her. At the first empty hallway, however, she found herself. . .trapped against the wall. Lydia bit back a smile as a faint tendril of smoke escaped from Peter's lips. “What did you do to me?”

“I am fairly certain you know it is called an entrapment spell, considering you gave it to me.”

He arched an eyebrow and leaned closer. “You seem very sure about that.”

She arched an eyebrow of her own. “Of course I am. I've grown quite competent in magic thanks to you, I know how to trace a spell back to its caster.”

“And I can assure you that I have never seen this necklace before in my life.” This close his smell started to invade her whole being, all she could breath was smoke and ashes.

Reaching out she tapped the pendent sending it swinging. “Regardless, for the time being I've trapped you in this human form of yours.” The smile she gave him would most likely blind lesser men. “We can work out the rest later, anyways you should be grateful that I decided I like you alive. I just as easily could have turned it into a death spell.”

It's hard for her to read the emotions on his face, though the huff he expelled sounded more like laughter than anything else. “I should be grateful then?”

She patted his cheek. “I'm told I'm quite the catch.”

Peter laughed before leaning down to nose at her ear. “Though it seems I haven't quite caught you yet _cala_.”

For a moment she felt as though his breath on her skin should raise blisters, soon though it only reminded her of the space next to a bonfire. “What does that mean?”

He stepped away from her and offered his arm. “What does what mean?”

Once again she rested her hand on the crook of his elbow. “ _Cala_?”

A grin spread on his face as they continued walking. “Now, now, _cala_. That would be telling.”


End file.
